Buying Thyme by TJ Hamilton Page B

beautiful fresh fruit. I smile as I realise Mrs Oktar is very observant and already knows me too well, including only the fruits that I finished yesterday on the platter.
    “Bon Appetite Mademoiselle.” Tench says with a smile and picks up a fork and starts placing pieces of rolled prosciutto and marinated eggplant onto his plate.
    “Since antipasto is Italian, shouldn’t that be Buon Appetito Senorita?” I ask audaciously.
    “Ah… Miranda. Too smart for your own good.” He says as he leans over and kisses me. His kiss deepens but both our hands remain on our plates. The kiss sends a thrill up my spine and I feel my lower regions begin to pulse under the sensation. Tench pulls away slow and seductively and keeps his eyes closed as he sucks on his lips.
    “ Mmm … Miranda. You really do drive me wild.” He professes as his eyes open and fix on me with fervent intensity.
     
    The antipasto is half devoured by the both of us. I just finish eating one of the baguettes when I notice someone waving at us from a Jet Ski, some hundred metres off shore. Tench laughs and waves back and the Jet Ski takes off again, hurtling back towards the southern end of the island.
    “Toni?” I ask.
    “No I think that was Pete, one of the other security team, but it is definitely my Jet Ski. I’d imagine Toni would be at the mini command post he’s set up back at the boat house.”
    I can’t decide whether it’s good to know that we’re always being looked after. I also find it unnerving to know that our every move is probably being watched, not just with Tench’s security team either, I’m sure. No doubt there would be media hiding out somewhere.
    “Do you think people recognise your boat?” I ask, suddenly feeling exposed out on the open harbour.
    “Yes unfortunately. She’s the only Sunseeker 88 Yacht on the harbour that’s called Miss Stress .”
    “Oh. So do you get followed by the media much when you’re out on your boat?” I look out onto the water to see if I notice any suspicious looking craft nearby. It dawns on me that this is my first public outing with Tench since he’s come back from Las Vegas. Considering his own confession that he is a prisoner in his own home, I start to feel apprehensive about who may actually be watching me right now.
    “Yes they do follow me sometimes. But don’t worry, not today they won’t. Between Toni and the boys on the Jet Skis, no one can get within a mile of here.”
    I wasn’t really asking Tench about anyone approaching the island. But now that he mentioned it, I feel far less confident about being out here with him than I did before. Is this what it would be like if I were to be with Tench all the time? No thanks! I like my life far simpler and far less complicated than this. I wonder what the time is? It must be time for us to head back to the mansion soon, so that I can pack my things and return to the Agency. The booking should almost be over. I have the sudden overwhelming feeling that I want to be back in the seclusion of the boat, and out of the prying eyes of god-knows-whom. The isolation of this little spot, now feels so exposed, thanks to being in the company of someone like Joe Tench.
    “Do you know what the time is?” I try to ask as casually as possible, despite my inner commentary.
    “Yeah it’s time to get you onto my boat and out of that outfit I think!” His words chime like bells in my ears.
    I wonder if he can see right through me at this moment?  I smile sweetly back at him. More in relief than in anticipation, but I’ll leave him to formulate an assumption of my happy mood. I help pack up our delightful picnic. A part of me wishes that Tench didn’t come with all this baggage, so I could enjoy a moment like this more.
    “What about all this delicious fruit left?” I ask disappointed.
    “Who said we were going back yet?” Tench replies. 
    He carries the basket and rug and I carry my handbag, the towels and wine bucket, and follow Tench